


Cause/Effect

by orphan_account



Category: Ed Edd n Eddy
Genre: M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Underage Masturbation, cumming in a sketchbook what even, implied mutual pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ed always gets worked up when he draws Double D.





	Cause/Effect

For adults and children with such disabilities as Ed, routine and familiarity make it easier to focus on strengths and weaknesses throughout development. That’s what Double D said. Ed tasted it, mulled it over between his teeth like a dwindling hard-candy. Gosh, Double D is so smart. He cares so much more about Ed than anyone else does. Even more than baby sister Sarah, and Eddy.

He pulled a handful of colored pencils at random from an exposed spring in his bed—his very own makeshift container—singling out autumnal shades, and a little bit of purple. He knew golden and turquoise blended wonderfully to capture the multifaceted hazel of Double D’s eyes. Gosh, Double D is so cute. Even cuter than Nazz.

Rain splashed against his window, the pitter-patter urging a rhythmic tremble throughout his hands. He traced a circle an inch above a page in his messy sketchbook, tapped his eraser thoughtfully, then solidified his plan.

Ed laid down the wirey framework of Double D’s figure. He’d look so lovely, slumped lax beneath a tree with a book propped up on his knees. The trunk would cradle him at the spine.

Double D is so sweet. His body is always warm and lithe, and tucked away inside his hat is a head of hair as soft as feathers. Even the sharp and observant Eddward Marion Vincent lost a bobby pin or two. Ed stumbled upon them in his sleeping bag, in his book bag, in his locker. If he was lucky, those things also smelled of Double D.

With that, he detailed the indefinite edge of his jaw, which showed signs of sharpening into a precise, elegant angle. His eyes, always widened, alert, and rimmed, still sparkled with innocence. The slope of his upturned button nose, perfect for pokes, and the thin plush of his lips.

Ed kneaded his own lip between his teeth, recalling faintly a mistletoe in July. Double D shook beneath Ed’s weight against the foot of his parent’s bed, but his mouth was compliant, and so were his legs. They wrapped tightly around the small of Ed’s back. That evil dark side was showing, growing, drawing him in, humming against his lips and pulling away quicker than he’d wanted it to. (“Now if you’d _ please _,”) He’d pushed Ed away.

Ed shifted to accommodate his growing discomfort, waving the thought away with his pencil. He drew Edd’s slim neck—sweet-smelling—and the shirt which hung loose on his frame. Hands smooth as silk and fragile-boned like a bird. Skinny yet shapely legs… When Double D sat that way, the legs of his shorts rode up. The elastic at the top of his socks squeezed the ivory flesh of his thighs, and out in the open was a sliver of skin, untouched and unmarred. To Ed it was like a hole cut into plastic casing to touch the try-me button on a toy. Sometimes he slipped his fingers into it. Sometimes it garnered a response. Double D always bit his lip, involuntarily jerking his legs just another hair’s width apart.

Ed grunted and pushed down at the tent in his pants, shooting a hot shudder to his core. This always happens. He can’t say he didn’t want it to. For adults and children with such disabilities as Ed, routine and familiarity make it easier to focus on strengths and weaknesses throughout development. It was a cause and effect he had observed, an accidental expression of the scientific method.

C: _ Drawing Double D_

E: _ made it difficult to move comfortably. _

Ed knew Eddy had some strange habits he didn’t quite understand, where he’d look at a picture and have to go to the bathroom. Sometimes he wet his bed and panicked, saying he’d be in trouble.

What he did simulated sex, and sex is for cool kids at parties with beer kegs and motorcycles, and people in horror movies who want to die first. Sex also made babies, Double D taught him. And he was too young to have babies.

He couldn’t deny the night he touched himself for the first time that he’d dreamt up little Ed and Edd Jrs. The next morning he kept a worried eye on Double D, making sure his belly was flat and he didn’t feel nauseous. He was ecstatic to discover that what he’d done at home hadn’t affected his friend at all.

And so came the drawings, truly meant to be innocent. Just a tribute, a homage, to someone who made his heart (and other organs) swell.

Ed got on his knees in bed, letting the pencils roll into the grooves that held his weight, and bunched up a pillow between his legs. Slow rocking did the trick. He let out tiny huffs.

He’d come close to sex before; It startled him in hindsight. One time he’d rocked against Double D’s leg in the brainiac’s bedroom. He was only pretending to be a puppy… His face flushed at the thought. The pillow didn’t feel anywhere as satisfying as Edd’s leg had. Double D was so upset. But he doesn’t yell at him like he does with Eddy. He wouldn’t yell at him for this, would he?

Ed grew impatient, kicking off his jeans as he allowed himself to fall back against his elbows. He took ahold of his slick shaft, which alone made him whine. Deep down inside he begged for something, specifics escaping him, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that he needed Double D between his shivering thighs. Sucking or bouncing or even just watching. He stroked himself off slowly, imagining Edd chastising him. Thin viscous fluid dribbled from Ed’s tip. He spread it, felt his cock throbbing in his hand. Slowly, Dreamy Double D slinked towards him on his knees like a cat. “Look at you, loveable oaf…” he whispered, watching in disbelief and intrigue. Dreamy Double D rubbed soothing circles along Ed’s inner thighs. He pulled away the extra skin at the end of Ed’s manhood, running his hot tongue along the tip, and _ ugh _—Ed keened and threw his head back, vision blurring. He focused on his fantasy quickly—Dreamy Double D bent over in nothing but those tight red socks, spreading himself apart, coming undone, relishing in the tease, grinding his ass against Ed’s slippery cock, but never letting him enter his tight velvety heat—

How horrible. Ed fell limp against his sheets, staring up at the cracked, unfinished ceiling. He caught his breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and ran his sleeve along the expanse of his now soiled drawing, sighing before putting his pants back on.

He crumpled the picture and threw it away.

Third time that week.


End file.
